One of Those Days
by luna8
Summary: Somebody solved it! Here's the end!
1. One of Those Days

Ever had one of those days when everything reminds you of HIM? Listening to the radio, I got quite a kick out some of the songs, when looked at in a whole new light. Perhaps I should consider seeing a psychiatrist? This is my first fanfic, and while constructive criticism is always welcome, be merciful…

Set after Hannibal the movie…

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, these folks don't belong to me. It'd be a nice way to pay for college if they did, but they don't, so I'm not making any money off this…

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It had been just been one of those days, where nothing had gone right. From the time she woke up, late because the alarm hadn't been set, Clarice had felt jinxed. She'd had to rush around the apartment like a mad women in order to get out the door on time. Out of necessity she had skipped breakfast, and then missed lunch when she got called into a meeting with her superiors for what they called an update. It really amounted to a dressing down because she wasn't getting anywhere with her current case. But honestly, how could one get anywhere with anything when it involved Hannibal Lecter, M.D.?

The rest of the long afternoon had been spent cooped up in her dungeon, or as other people liked to call it, Hannibal's House. Completely surrounded by photographs of him and his victims, she had tried to divine his whereabouts by sheer will power. Needless to say, it hadn't worked. When she finally decided to quit for the night, most of the other staff at Quincato had already left.

Life hadn't improved any once she left the building. After discovering that her car wouldn't start, she'd had to spend a good 20 minutes messing around under the hood, until she'd found the loose electrical connection. She was totally disgusted with her day by the time she climbed into the driver's seat only to discover she'd gotten grease all over the front of her best suit. With an inarticulate growl, she burned out of the parking lot and onto the freeway. Halfway home she realized that she hadn't shopped and that if she wanted anything to eat today, it was going to have to be fast food. She pulled into the next McDonald's she came across, and ordered supper at the drive through. She ate as she drove, and was feeling rather ill by the time she reached home. Fast food grease on an empty stomach was not a very good idea she realized ruefully.

She walked up the drive to her front door and dropped her things as soon as she got inside. Her roommate, Ardelia Mapp, came around the corner from the living room when she heard her come in.

"You're home late, girl," Mapp commented with a question in her eyes.

"I don't want to take about it, Delia," Clarice replied with a shake of her head. "I'm going to go do the laundry."

"That bad hun?" Mapp questioned with a small smile.

"Yah, that bad," Clarice said, ending any further prying by heading for the laundry room and closing the door. As corny as it might sound the laundry room was her favourite place in the house. She did most of her thinking there and all of her crying. She felt safe there, like she could drop the mask she wore all day. The mask of strength she wore all day to try to keep the vultures at bay. Once she hadn't needed to pretend, she was strong, but now she was tired and cranky and needed to be on her own. She stripped down to her underwear and dumped her soiled things in the washer. Never one to pay attention to the "Dry Clean Only" tags, she dumped in some soap and closed the lid. The whooshing sound of water filling the machine started to work its calming magic as she reached for the fluffy blue bathrobe she left of the back of the door. She tied the sash and then curled up in the corner against the washer. 

Looking across at the shelves, she noticed her old radio, peaking out behind her from Delia's seldom-used toolbox. It was one of the few things she had from her childhood. She remembered it sitting on the counter in the kitchen playing more static than music as her mother kneaded bread. She had taken it with her when she left for the farm, and after when she went to the orphanage. She had fought many a fight, in order to keep the small metal box, with its broken antenna and scratched dial. She reached out and picked up the radio from its hiding place, remembering her Dad teaching her how to waltz to the dance program that had aired every Saturday.

Feeling slightly nostalgic, she picked up the plug and pushed it into the outlet that was beside her on the floor. There was a loud crackling static noise, and she fumbled to adjust the volume. After slowly moving the tuner dial back and forth she discovered that the only station she could pick up was a pop rock station. At least she knew the radio still worked. She was about to unplug it again, when she realized how long it had been since she had listened to any music. She let the radio continue to play its advertisements as she thought about the tape that was currently in her walkman – a tape of her conversations with Dr. Lecter from Baltimore. She had gone back to the beginning in hopes of finding some clue to his current whereabouts. A mirthless laugh escaped her when she realized that even her spare time was spent hunting her elusive quarry.

Her thoughts came back to the radio when the ads finished and a song by B.N.L. began.

_If you call, I will answer_

Her mind flashed. **Is this Clarice? Well, hello Clarice…**

_And if you fall, I'll pick you up_

Another memory. *Just before she passed out at the farm, strong arms lifting her. *

_And if you court this disaster, I'll point you home_

Is that what he'd been trying to do? Point her away from the disaster her life courting the F.B.I. had become? She was lost in her contemplation of his motives until the tempo of the music changed and an older song started to play.

_Well I don't know why I came here tonight_

Another memory. * Pausing at the gate on the old road to the farm… wondering. *

_I got the feelin that somethin ain't right_

* The feeling that something was very wrong and if she didn't do something… *

_I'm so scared, I guess I'll fall off my chair_

* Sitting across the table from Krendler, almost falling as he took the knife from her hand. *

_And I'm wonderin' how I'll get down the stairs_

* Hearing him downstairs. Navigating the stairs in those shoes. *

_Clowns to the left of me_

* Crawford, Verger and the Italian inspector. *

_Jokers to the right_

* Chilton, Krendler and the F.B.I. *

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Here I am stuck in the middle with you

* Caught with Lecter in this tangled web of people who affected their lives. *

_Yes I'm stuck in the middle with you_

A different memory. * Pinned against the refrigerator. *

_And I'm wonderin' what it is I should do_

* The quiet snick of the handcuffs. The almost pleased smile in his eyes. * She was lost in the memories until the next song began and she shook her head as if to clear it.

Tom Jones' voice hit the airwaves.

_Watch out, you might get what you're after…_

But what was she after? Did she really want to find him again? Did she want to continue the endlessly unproductive days, spiced up with lectures from people who could never have done what she did? Unless the good doctor got careless and left some evidence to his whereabouts behind, she was never going to find him. And if she didn't find him, she could kiss her career goodbye anyway. Everything centered around HIM.

_I'm an ordinary guy. Burning down the house._

She snorted at the thought of the doctor proclaiming himself to be an ordinary guy, particularly to a disco beat. She did pause to wonder if she was loosing it, imagining the good doc, getting down and dirty on the dance floor, but it was making her feel better and that was what she needed at the moment. She waited to see what the next song would be as she tapped her foot to the beat. Something slightly techno came on next, and she burst out laughing.

_All around the world… la la la la la_

Yep, that definitely applied to the doc. The only certain fact she had to his whereabouts was that he was somewhere around the world. She sat for a minute longer and then got up and began to move to the music. The beat was very infectious, though the lyrics were pretty annoying, and it felt good to dance around in her little laundry room where no one could see her. She leaned up against the dryer and waited through more advertising for the next song.

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Out side on the street the man in the rental car smiled slowly. Clarice needed to laugh more he decided it took years off her appearance. He had told her she needed to get more fun out of life, but she hadn't taken his advice. Perhaps it was time he gave her a stronger prescription. With that thought he left his car and made his way to her back door.

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Clarice didn't hear her the laundry room door open over the funky Chilean music that was currently playing. She had her back to the door, and was dancing uninhibitedly to the lyrics.

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Whenever, wherever…

We're meant to be together

I'll be there and you'll near

And that's the deal my dear…

Her eyes went wide as she felt two strong hands clamp down on her hips to still her movement. She inhaled a gasp as she felt a warm breath on her neck.

"That's the deal my dear," he echoed.

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Let me know if you think it's worth pursuing. luna.


	2. And so it begins

Thanks for all the great reviews… here's the next installment :)

Usual disclaimers apply…

And so it begins…

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HE was standing right behind her! For a moment she stood completely still as her mind tried to absorb the fact that the man, himself, was standing in her laundry room breathing down her neck. She automatically put her hands to her waist and hooked her thumbs under his hands. His HANDS?? Plural?? She gave the left one an exploratory squeeze and felt it grasp her hip tighter for a second. She felt his chuckle at her back more than she heard it.

"Yes, Clarice, it's still there. You didn't think I'd part with my hand did you?" he said, knowing even as he said it that it was exactly what she had thought. She had closed her eyes as the cleaver came down over her own wrist, and when she opened them again he was gone, leaving the counter covered with blood. What else was she supposed to think?

These thoughts reminded her of just who was standing behind her. She had to do something she had to act, but there were no handcuffs at hand this time. Whether he felt the subtle tensing of her muscles or noticed her draw a large breath, he moved before she was conscious of deciding on a course of action. His left arm slid around her waist as his left hand clamped firmly over her lips.

"Clarice…" he tisked. "You wouldn't want me to have to deal with Miss Mapp, now would you?" Clarice didn't really want to think about what constituted the action 'deal with' around this man, but he was right, she couldn't involve Ardelia in a dangerous situation. She was going to have to do this on her own. She slipped her right foot between his in an effort to try to hook her arch around his ankle and trip him. Again he seemed to anticipate her, and he lifted her off her feet against his chest, before she could get a solid stance.

"I see you are not going to be agreeable about this," he said more to himself than her. Indeed, he ignored the muffled growls and squeals that were coming from under his hand, as he reached around her, into his coat pocket and pulled out a small syringe. When Clarice saw it the muffled noises doubled in volume, and she began to squirm and twist in an effort to escape his iron grasp. He took a step forward and pinned her against the wall, none too gently.

"You begin to try my patience, Special Agent Starling," he hissed, as he administered the powerful sleeping medication. Not a great amount – he only wanted her to sleep for a few hours. Within seconds, she had slumped against the wall. He turned her around and bent down to grasp her behind the knees. He stood effortlessly with Clarice securely held over his shoulder. Not the most dignified position, he thought to himself, but he needed at least one of his hands free in order to navigate the series of doors between him and the car. As the dark figure glided silently from the back door, the little radio continued its static broadcast to the hum of the washer.

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When Clarice awoke, she was in bed, but she couldn't remember how she'd gotten there. It was as she rolled over and found her wrist handcuffed to an antique, bedpost, that the memory of what had happened came crashing back to her.

SHE HAD BEEN ABDUCTED BY HANNIBAL LECTER!!!!!!!!

It took her a moment, to quell the panic that set in and she carefully searched the shadows of the room for any sign of her captor. She breathed a sigh of relief when she discovered the room empty, but he wouldn't be far away. She tugged frantically at the handcuffs but there was no way she could get the other half over the brass knob of the bed post. She was stuck! As she looked around the room again, she noticed the letter sitting on the bedside table. It was addressed like all the others, with just her name in his familiar writing. She picked it up, took a deep breath before she slit the envelope open with her finger, and tried to prepare herself for the doctor's latest bit of wisdom.

Dear Clarice, __

I hope you had a pleasant little nap. You're going to need it. I told you once that you needed to get more fun out of life, and I've come back to make sure you take your medicine. You noticed when I came to pick you up that I am still in possession of both my hands – please don't be concerned, as I know how you feel about any creature that is harmed - even me, eh? Did I make it on to your list of lambs that night Clarice? Did you hear that cleaver in your dreams? I think you did.

Now on to the reason for your current position. You will have discovered that you are handcuffed (I thought it rather appropriate) to a rather heavy piece of furniture. The reason for this is simple – we're going to play a game. Everything you need to get back to your charming abode (and your dancing?) can be found in this house. To win the game, all you need to do is get home. I, however, am also in the house. I trust I needn't explain my role in this game. What are the stakes? I hear you ask – well they are very high for both of us, but when haven't they been? Besides the prize is what makes it all worthwhile. Perhaps you'll get another chance to silence the sounds of your dreams.

Well then, let the games begin!

Hannibal Lecter

P.S. If you go looking for cobwebs in shadows be sure to take a broomstick. H.

Clarice pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her head on them. She couldn't keep doing this; she was tired of trying to get a step ahead of the man who seemed to be perpetually in the lead. As much as she might like to, she realized that she couldn't just sit there. He would think it rude of her not to participate in something he had obviously taken trouble to set up. She glanced over the letter again. What did he mean when he said she'd get another chance to silence the sounds of her dreams? Was he going to kill some new victim unless she won the game? And why did she have to get home? Oh, my god, Ardelia! Was he going to go after Ardelia, if she didn't get home first? She couldn't let that happen! She tugged frantically at the handcuffs again, and again had no effect. She growled her frustration.

Downstairs Lecter looked up from his reading as his exceptional hearing picked up the sound of a very angry growl. She was awake! Goody, goody!

Starling sat with the letter in her hand and almost broke into tears. There was no way she could get free in time to save Ardelia. She looked at the letter and cursed the man who had written it. He thought this was a game! How dare he fool with people's lives like this? Who was she kidding? The man was a sociopathic cannibal, fooling with people's lives like this was his hobby! All right, she'd just have to play the game. She looked over the letter again, knowing that there must be a clue there somewhere; she just needed to think. Think! The postscript was rather odd: 'If you go looking for cobwebs in the shadows be sure to take a broom stick.' What did that mean? Why would she need a broomstick? Whenever she saw that word, she thought of the Disney movie bed knobs and broomsticks. Bed knobs? Bed knobs! The movie where the bed knob screwed off the post so the little boy could put it in his pocket! 

She flipped around so she was sitting on her knees facing the wall and tried to twist the bed knob at the top of the post. It was tight and took all of her strength to twist, but once she got it turning, it came off quite easily. She slipped the ring of the cuffs off the post and swung her legs off the bed. She had to get out of this house now! As she stood up the bed knob rolled ponderously to the edge of the bed and then hit the floor with a loud thunk. Clarice glanced at the door with wide eyes. She needed to move right this instant, and she bolted for the door.

Lecter looked up at the ceiling as he heard a loud thunk, from the floor upstairs. His girl was quick; there was no denying that. He smiled as he closed his book and blew out the candle he had been reading by. This was going to be fun… maybe even better than fun.

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Got a few labs to catch up on this weekend, so the next part might be a while, but I guarantee it's on its way! luna


	3. i read dante - he mocks us - oe!

i read dante – he mocks us – oe!

In case you're wondering about the title… think fools gold!

Thanks for all the encouraging reviews (even the death threats!) writing this stuff could get addictive.

Usual disclaimers: just borrowing.

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Clarice came to an abrupt stop in the pitch-black hallway. She couldn't see a thing and panicked for a second. Then her eyes began to adjust and she saw a faint streak of light at the end of the hallway by what she thought was the stairs. As she neared the window, she discovered that it was boarded up and the only light entering the hall was coming through a crack in the boards from the moon. It was then that the dusty, slightly pungent smell in the air made sense. Dr. Lecter had brought her to a house that had been abandoned for quite some time. There would be no electricity or telephone and no one ever think to search a building that was boarded up, for trespassers. Particularly as this house seemed to be isolated in the middle of a forest, from the little she could see out the window. There would be no backup to save her this time. The man definitely learned from his mistakes.

Clarice made her way cautiously down the staircase, intently listening for any sound, every few steps. She crossed the front hall to the door and spent a moment tugging on the handle before she noticed a note taped to the door at eye level. She pulled it down and held it down to a shaft of light to read it.

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Tsk, tsk, Clarice!

Surely, you've noticed that this house has been boarded up. It would have been very clumsy of me to alert anyone passing by to my presence by removing the boards on the front door.

Perhaps you're feeling slightly overwhelmed and need a little encouragement. Very well, I'll let you choose the game we play tonight. Cat and mouse? Hide or seek? What do you think Clarice?

By the way, I'd get moving if I were you, as the front door will be the first place I check. We wouldn't want the game to end so quickly would we?

Clarice's head snapped as she read the end. Oh god, where was he? Where would he expect her to go from here? The kitchen would probably have another door, but what wouldn't he expect? Back upstairs! Right! Clarice moved as quickly back up the staircase as she could.

In the living room, Dr. Lecter cocked his head to listen to her retreating footsteps and a bemused smile touched his lips. Trust her to do the unexpected. He decided to give her another few minutes to find a hiding place and then it was his turn to move.

Clarice walked as quietly as she could along the hallway, staying beside the wall to avoid creaky floorboards. She paused for a moment in the doorway of the bedroom where she had woken up, but the shook her head and moved down the hall to the next door. It turned out to be the bathroom and she slipped inside and pushed the door to. The small window above the tub hadn't been covered over and the moon was high in the sky. She stepped into the tub and peered outside. She sighed softly; trees as far as she could see. She glanced down and noticed that the bathroom was quite clean and smelled of soap rather than the mustiness of the hall. Dr. Lecter must have been camping out here, setting this up, she thought. Typical of him to break the pattern she thought, as she glanced at the sink counter. Another note, taped to a small bottle, sat waiting for her. She picked both up, and realized right away she held a bottle of L'Air du Temps.

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Do you remember Clarice? Did you feel brave? You could probably use a boost to your stores of courage tonight eh? Go ahead and put some on.

Clarice remembered taking a deep breath as she walked down the line of cells to the last one…

She sprayed a little on her wrists and then rubbed the damp spots on either side of her neck. Another memory suddenly came back to her. Dr. Lecter behind the glass, his head raised, as he inhaled deeply to catch her scent. Damn, he would be able to smell her now! How could she have been so stupid? She wouldn't be able to hide – he could track her movements like a bloodhound. Unless that was all he could smell? As the thought formed, Clarice smiled for the first time since this crazy night had started. 

She grabbed the bottle and moved back to the top of the stairs spraying as she went. The hallway, the bedroom, back to the bathroom. Further down the rest of the hallway she came to another bedroom and finally the end of the hall and a closed door. Spraying the perfume all the way, Clarice doused the whole top floor in the scent she was wearing. She paused at the door not knowing what she'd find on the other side. She heard a slight noise on the stairs, like fabric brushing against fabric. She twisted the door handle, praying it wouldn't squeak. She slipped into the room and eased the door shut behind her.

She leaned her forehead against the door for a moment and then turned to glance around the room. She was in another bedroom, the master bedroom. His bedroom. She bit her lip before she grinned and proceeded to douse the place in L'Air du Temps. She made sure to get the jacket hanging on chair really well. If anything horrible happened tonight, perhaps that would inspire some guilt in the good doctor. Yah, right! She snorted softly. She crouched down in the shadows by his desk and hoped he would check in here for her.

As Dr. Lecter started up the last few steps to the second floor, the unmistakable scent of Clarice hit him full in the face. He moved down the hallway and it was still all he could smell. He chuckled at he ingenuity. She'd certainly put his little "gift" to a better use than he'd intended. Well, he'd just have to find her the old fashioned way. He started opening doors.

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hehe... I know I'm bad with stopping at the good parts, but I'm trying to work up to that more mature rating somebody mentioned so you'll just have to put up with it…

All comments, suggestions, etc. are very welcome. Thnx for the support, luna.


	4. Huntress and Hunter

Huntress and Hunter

Yah! I'm in the middle of mid terms and I still got chpt. 4 done. Keep the reviews coming – they're really good for getting me away from the books. For those of you who are threatening to barbecue, I would like to say I'm more of a chocolate fondue person :P

Add the usual "I don't own 'em."

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The first door Dr. Lecter opened, was to the bedroom where he had gently laid Clarice down to sleep off the effects of the drug he had administered to her. She hadn't been soundly asleep; in fact, he had been worried that she would wake before he had her where he wanted her. As he had carried her up the stairs in his arms, she had nuzzled her nose against his chest, as if seeking his scent. He wondered what would have happened if she had woken up at that moment. Ah well, he'd gone to some trouble to set up this little game and was sure they were both having fun. Just what the doctor ordered!

He didn't really expect to find her in the first bedroom, nor the bathroom either. As he briefly checked the other two bedrooms and found nothing he began to wonder where she had gotten to. He paused at the last door of the hallway. Surely, she hadn't taken refuge in his own private domain. He opened the door and was again greeted by her scent. So the mouse had dared the lion's den had she? He scanned the room but saw nothing as his eyes were drawn to the bed. Clarice saw him grin and valiantly suppressed a shiver at the look in his eyes. Why didn't he say something? He must have seen her as soon as he walked in!

Lecter walked forward and rested his hands on his jacket, which was draped over the chair. Clairce's perfume wafted up to him like dust motes in the sunshine. She had thoroughly drenched his good suit jacket! He growled low in his throat as he picked up the jacket and shook it slightly. It would never air out entirely, and as much as he liked her smell, this was just too much. His eyes narrowed as he contemplated the jacket. The little minx was certainly having her fun! He cocked his head as he heard something rattle downstairs. His eyes widened as he realized she must have sneaked past him. He turned abruptly, dropping his jacket back on the chair. He was already halfway down the stairs, when the figure in the shadows breathed a huge sigh of relief.

Clarice stood up cautiously and tightened the sash of her bathrobe around her waist. She wondered how he could have missed her. Perhaps the doctor had come to rely too heavily on his exceptional sense of smell, or perhaps he had intentionally ignored her to prolong the game. She moved silently down the hall to the top of the stairs. She heard the light rap of his shoes crossing the entrance downstairs. She pressed herself against the wall hoping he wouldn't look up. He passed beneath her into another room and again she sighed softly. It seemed that all her encounters with the doctors were a close call of one kind or another. She wiggled her bare toes against the floor and realized that if she moved quietly the doctor wouldn't be able to hear her. On the other hand, if he did hear something he was bound to go investigate. She darted back into the first bed room as another plan took form in her head.

Downstairs, Doctor Lector was starting to wonder if he hadn't underestimated his Clarice. Where was she? He'd checked all the rooms of the lower floor without any hint of her whereabouts. He wasn't going to 'pounce' and end the game just yet, but he liked keeping tabs on her movements. He stood in the living room and closed his eyes, listening intently for her.

In the entranceway, Clarice took careful aim and then lobbed the heavy bed knob up and over the banister into the hallway above. It made a satisfying racket as it landed and rolled. She hurried back into the shadowy living room and didn't see as a swift moving shadow exited the room across from her and took the stairs two at a time. Clarice glanced around for a moment and noticed the chess game in progress set on the coffee table. She wondered who won when the good doctor played against himself. She smiled at her whimsy and then realized she couldn't afford to waste more time with idle thoughts. She made a beeline for the kitchen, hoping to find another door that would let her out of this mad house. She was intensely aware that she didn't have much time.

In the upstairs hallway, Lecter knew what she had done as soon as he located the bed knob lying against the wall near the bathroom. He smiled at her ingenuity. She was proving to be a worthy adversary in this little diversion. He'd reacted precisely as she had intended him to. He hated to be predictable. He stood with the bed knob in his hand and quietly slipped off his shoes. He'd purposely left them on in order to try to level the playing field for her a little bit, but she obviously didn't need his help. He moved silently back down the stairs. He had a few surprises of his own.

In the kitchen, Clarice was frustrated to find another blocked door and another note. She almost didn't read it, but couldn't quite make herself turn away.

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Clarice,

I thought I made it clear that everything you need to get home is in this house. You'll find the door when you have everything you need. Unfortunately, no ruby slippers were to be found when I went shopping for this little game. You will, however, need some shoes and something to wear. Are you brave enough to find them?

H.

What on earth did he mean by that? Was she brave enough? Did he mean she had to go back up stairs? Here she was in her bathrobe, standing in the kitchen of a deserted house, where a notorious cannibal had taken up residence, staring at the refrigerator across from her. The situation was so ridiculous she almost laughed, but caught herself before she gave away her current location. The thought of cannibals and refrigerators really shouldn't be funny, especially considering her previous experience with the two.

Of course! The refrigerator! She approached it cautiously wondering what she was going to find, but knowing for certain that was what he had meant. She cracked the door and tried to peak into the darkened space. She took a deep breath and then opened the door fully. She smiled as the meager light showed her the contents. A pair of jeans and a sweatshirt lay carefully folded on the top shelf and a pair of socks was lying next to a pair of sneakers on the bottom shelf. She reached in and scooped everything into her arms as she heard a phone ring. Phone! Oh, my god, there was a cell phone in the house. She dropped the bundle of clothing on the floor with a thump and raced into the dinning room.

Dr. Lecter entered from the other door and scooped up the clothes, leaving a note in their place. He retreated to the living room in order to enjoy her reaction.

Clarice quickly pinpointed the ringing sound in a partly opened drawer in the china cabinet. She ground her teeth as she lifted the child's toy from its hiding place. She snapped the plastic model of a cell phone closed and stopped the realistic ringing sound. Knowing that he knew exactly where she was, she didn't bother stopping her growl of disappointment and frustration.

In the living room, Dr. Lecter grinned as he heard her. She made the most wonderful growling noises when she was frustrated. He wondered what else could make her emit that delicious little sound. He took a moment to enjoy the possibilities his mind created for him and swiftly exited the room in anticipation of her next move.

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Yah, I know, I know… please remember the fondue. I'm thinking one maybe two more chapters. I still haven't decided on the end rating… should I keep it a suggestive PG or spell it all out? Let me know, luna.


	5. The devil speak true

Well, here we go with chpt 5.

"What, can the devil speak true?" Macbeth 1:III

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Clarice spun around and headed back to the kitchen. She ground her teeth when she discovered the pile of clothes had disappeared and another infernal note had taken their place.

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So we're taking off the gloves, are we? Brave girl. You really shouldn't leave valuable things just lying around you know. There liable to get misplaced, my dear, and then you have to waste time searching for them. I believe this is check. How much longer 'til checkmate? H.

Clarice shivered with apprehension. She was running out of time, and she didn't want to consider the consequences if she lost. Ok girl, she thought to herself, just calm down and think. Every note has been a clue to the next piece of the puzzle. What stuck out about this one? The chess references must be a clue to the living room. She moved quickly but quietly out of the kitchen and across the hall to the living room. There by the chessboard was the pile of clothes, again neatly folded with a note on top. 

I think I'm being too easy on you, Clarice, so you'll have to give up the shoes as a penalty for your blunder with the telephone. Are you so eager to call your precious F.B.I.? You've almost made it, but I don't know if you're up to the last challenge. Outside this house in a small clearing is a car. You are more than welcome to use it to get yourself home. However, first you must find the keys. Now, where does one usually keep their car keys? You had better start searching. H. 

She might be able to pull this off yet. Where would he have put the keys? Where did most people put their keys? The table in the hall? She went out to look, but there was nothing there. She moved back into the living room. She shed her housecoat and donned the jeans and sweatshirt, Dr. Lecter had provided for her. She sat down on the dust-covered couch to think. Where were those keys? Looking at the chessboard she abstractedly thought that black could win if only the castle could move on the diagonal. That was it! She had been playing by the rules all this time. His rules! She didn't need those damn keys; she needed to get out of this house! But all the doors were blocked. So how did he get in and out? A window? Probably not. Where else would there be a door? The basement! But there were no stairs to a basement. She'd been all over the ground floor and the only staircase led to the upstairs. 

A picture of the ranch house where she had spent some time as a child flashed into her mind. In the pantry of the kitchen, there had been a trap door that led into the cellar. She had been terrified of going down there. The boys used to tell her stories about giant spiders that lived under the house. Clarice smiled grimly and made her way as silently as possible back to the kitchen. She was acutely aware that he could be anywhere, watching her at that very moment, just waiting to pounce on her. Her hand automatically went to her hip, and then made a fist as she realized she was unconsciously searching for her gun. Did she really need that piece of metal to make her feel secure? She shook her head, as she scanned the kitchen in the meager light. In the corner, she saw another door she had overlooked before. She eased it open and found herself looking at shelves and shelves of empty, dusty, canning jars. She moved her foot over the floor and inhaled sharply when she found what she was looking for. A ring was recessed into the wood of the pantry floor. She bent down and grasped it firmly before yanking hard on the heavy wood. She just managed to grab the edge of the trap door before it crashed against the shelves. She could just make out the top stair that led down to the basement. The gaping hole in the floor reminded her of a grave and she shuddered as she thought of Jame Gumb's basement. What new horrors were waiting for her down there? Certainly, they were no worse than the ones she faced if she stayed put. 

She took a deep breath and then plunged down into the darkness. She counted twelve stairs before she hit the basement floor. It smelled damp and moldy and it was very cold. She was a full story below ground and if she had thought the upstairs was dark, this was ten times worse. She stood rooted to the spot in panic for a moment, but that allowed her eyed to adjust to the lack of light. She thought she could just make out a sliver of light on her right, but couldn't be sure. She glanced up behind her and was pleased to note that the stairs could be plainly seen. As long as the door wasn't closed, she wouldn't get lost down there. She moved cautiously to her right, hoping she didn't bump into anything. Luck seemed, finally, to be with her, on this day from hell, as the outline of a door came more sharply into view. About six stairs and a door above that slopped in towards the house. She pushed on the wood and was greeted by the cold outside air and the bright light from the moon. She dashed out into the night and stood panting with her hands on her knees. She was out! Now where was that damn car? She started to run, ignoring the fact that she only had socks on her feet. She circled the house part way when she found a path. I dipped down and then up again and she thought she could see metal glinting through the trees. She ran head long down the path, but cried out sharply as her foot caught on a tree root and she went down hard, badly twisting her ankle. Cursing sharply, she picked herself up, ignoring her bleeding palms and torn jeans, and kept going.

Inside Dr. Lecter was waiting for Clarice to come into the dining room again. He patted the car keys in his pocket. What she was going to have to do to get them he hadn't quite decided, when he heard a sharp cry split the air outside. He knew immediately that Clarice had found her way out of the house. The thought was confirmed as he dashed into the kitchen pantry to find the trap door leaning up against the shelving. He must really be slipping if she had managed to get out without him noticing. He'd been preoccupied, and that was always a dangerous occupation. He didn't hesitate as he plunged down the stairs, across the basement and burst out of cellar door, hot in pursuit of Clarice. He had no doubt that she would be able to hot-wire the car, and if he didn't get to her first. He raced down the path, making not a sound despite his speed. Clarice didn't hear him, as he stopped at the edge of the clearing, to see her pick up a stout tree branch with the obvious intent of breaking one of the windows of the shiny black BMW. 

Clarice managed a good grip on the branch despite her bleeding hands, and was about to swing it, baseball style, through the back window of the car, when it was painfully wrenched from her grasp. She spun around to see Dr. Lecter standing behind her, holding the branch in one hand. His gaze burned into hers as he threw it into the underbrush. She took an involuntary step backwards, but he matched her retreat with a step of his own. He advanced on her until she bumped into the car at her back and could go no further.

"So you were going to leaving without saying goodbye, Clarice," he hissed into the night. "How unspeakably rude…" Clarice's eyes went wide as she understood his meaning.

"Dr. Lector…" was all she managed before he cut her off.

"You didn't play by the rules, my dear, which means you forfeit our little game."

Clarice shook her head and silently mouthed the word no, as visions of Ardelia's face on all the pictures of victims in her office, spun through her mind. She couldn't let him do it. She glanced to the overgrown road but knew she couldn't him. She couldn't tackle him; he'd proved his superior strength on several occasions. She couldn't just give up. Dr. Lector saw the panicked darting of her eyes and took the decision out of her hands. She was hit by a powerful feeling of déjà vu, as he slammed her up against the car as he had against the refrigerator at the lake house. Her right fist almost connected with his jaw, but he caught both her wrists in his powerful grip and pinned them against the roof.

"Déjà vu?" he asked as if he had read her mind.

"No," she whispered as she squirmed under the pressure of his hold. "I won't let you do it."

"Won't let me do what?" he asked he face so close to hers she could feel his breath on her cheek.

"I won't let you hurt Ardelia," she said, as he leaned his weight into her to stop her movement. Clarice sucked in a breath at the physical contact. The last person that had been this close to her… had been him.

"You think I'm going to harm your roommate?" he asked with a twinkle in his eye.

"Why else would I have to get home?" Clarice asked in defeat. He noticed her tone and relaxed his hold slightly. "Those were the stakes weren't they? My chance to save another lamb?"

"No, Clarice, you misunderstood my words," he said in her ear. "The lamb you had to save was yourself, to silence the sounds of you dreams. Tell me Clarice, do you hear the sound of the cleaver hitting the block, or the sound of your heart pounding from moments before?"

"I don't fear you doctor," she said in response.

"I should hope not," he replied with a saucy grin. Clarice's brow furrowed in confusion.

"I should fear you, because I didn't flinch when you pretended to bite me?" she asked. He leaned in close to her again.

"No, because you didn't flinch when I kissed you," he whispered in her ear. Clarice jerked her head back to look him in the eyes. The moonlight reflecting off them, made their cobalt colour appear almost black.

"But you didn't," she said even more confused. He cocked his head to study her intently.

"It's amazing what the brain is able to make itself forget," he murmured. "Perhaps a bit of a reenactment will help you remember things more clearly," he said as he released her hands and reached into his pocket for the car keys. Before her mind registered what had happened, he'd hit the button on the key ring to unlock the doors, grabbed the handle of the front door behind her, flipped her hair into the open gap, slammed both her and the door back and locked it again. She realized how he had trapped her again, as he slipped the keys back into his pocket and pinned her arms to her sides.

"I believe I asked you a question Clarice," he stated in the metallic rasp that did indeed haunt her sleep.

"You asked me if I would ever say 'If you loved me you'd stop'," Clarice answered in a hushed whisper.

"That's right," he crooned, "and you answered?"

"Not in a thousand years," she said again with her eyes shut tight. She couldn't bear to look into his eyes anymore.

"Open your eyes, Clarice," he commanded in a soft tone. When she complied, he smiled. "That's my girl," he said just before he lunged at her. Again, she didn't flinch as he stopped just inches from her nose. As his face drew even nearer, he heard her softly whisper,

"Oh, my god." She remembered now, all the feelings came rushing back. Everything she hadn't wanted to remember; the things she couldn't deal with on her own. She heard Dr. Lecter chuckle quietly.

"Now that you remember," he said as he freed her from the door, "I suppose that I should apologize for my ungentlemanly behavior." He smiled again, "but that doesn't change the fact that I won this evening's match." He stepped back a pace and Clarice took her chance. She pushed away from the car with a violent heave and threw herself into a mad lunge for the narrow road. She had to escape! She only managed about three steps before he caught her around the waist. He wasn't strong enough to halt their combined momentum and they crashed to the ground. They rolled over and over, as Clarice hit and kicked in a wild attempt to free herself. Lecter finally subdued her, with a thigh over hers and his chest holding her pinned to the ground. He trapped both her wrists in one of his hands and held her arms above her head to stop her buffeting him around his head and shoulders. He leaned up on his other elbow to look down at her face. Her eyes were shut tightly but two tears had escaped to run down her dirty cheeks. He couldn't resist leaning down and lapping them up with his tongue. His breath flowed over her skin as he savoured the taste.

"Come now Clarice, it can't be bad enough to warrant tears," he scolded. Just two words were forced past her lips,

"My ankle."

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I've got chpt six (the end) done too, but I'm not posting until someone figures out the title of chapter 3. I'm proud of my little anagram, and would like someone other than the good doctor able to appreciate it. Please remember that all recipes concocted in my 'honour' should include some form of chocolate :P luna

For all the good attempts I'll give you a hint – it's written down in chapter 3.


	6. Love is merely a madness

Yah for fledermaus! Thank you for solving that… here, as promised, is the next and final chpt. Add the usual "not mine"

"Love is merely a madness…" As you like it 3:II

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Dr. Lecter rolled off her immediately and sat crouched on his knees, as he carefully looked her over. Clarice lay motionless, trying to get through the terrible burning that a second twist of her ankle had caused to shoot up her calf. The doctor left her in silence until he heard her draw a shaky but deep breath, which signaled some relief had come to her.

She opened her eyes again as she felt the doctor's hands gently checking for broken bones. He was down on his knees at her feet, and looked up as she lifted herself onto her elbows. One well placed kick with her good leg and she could probably knock him out. As if he could read her thoughts in her eyes, he clamped his hand around her other ankle.

"Come now, Clarice, I'm only trying to help," he said in a calming tone.

"No, you're not," she refuted as she sat up. "You've never tried to help," she said as she lunged for him once again. Dr. Lecter was beginning to tire of the game, particularly since she had been injured, although not as badly as he had at first thought. He held her down with one hand as he reached into his pocket for the handcuff key. She still had the cuffs attached to one wrist and he efficiently cuffed the other wrist above her head and pocketed the key again. He moved over to her side and stood with her in his arms in one fluid motion. Clarice was watching his profile for some clue as to his plans, but his face was inscrutable as ever, as he carried her back towards the house. She tried to wriggle out of his grasp but he held her firmly against his chest, and with a warning glare from him she stopped her struggles. She thought about biting him as she had been taught in her self-defense classes during training, but she couldn't make herself do it.

"You can't make yourself do it? Can you Clarice?" he purred in her ear. His ability to deduce her thoughts was uncanny.

"What?" she asked, trying to avoid answering his question.

"You can't make yourself bite me. You can't sink those lovely little teeth into some part of my anatomy even in order to win your freedom," he answered for clarification.

"I could if I wanted to," she insisted without thinking. She shrieked as he lightly tossed her in the air and deftly caught her again.

"You should know better than to lie to me, my dear," he purred as she hooked her shackled arms instinctively around his neck.

"I wasn't," she insisted with her head buried in his shoulder. She heard him laugh and looked up to meet his gaze.

"That would leave one with the conclusion that you just don't want to," he said with a heart-stopping grin. By this time, they had reentered the house through the basement and Dr. Lecter sat her down on the counter in the kitchen. She blushed as he lifted her arms from around his neck. What was he thinking behind those glittering eyes she wondered desperately? He left her sitting there with a firm admonishment to stay put.

As soon as he left she slipped down off the counter and immediately regretted it. Her injured ankle wouldn't hold her weight and she hit the floor with and audible "oof!"

Dr. Lecter came back carrying some candles and a first aid kit to find her sitting on the floor, trying to hold back the tears.

"Well, at least I wont have to tie you up in order to make you stay put," he quipped as he lifted her onto the counter again. He set the candles around and lit them so they could both see quite well. It was obvious that Clarice's ankle was swelling and that her hands and knees desperately needed attention. First, Dr. Lecter removed the soiled socks and then considered her jeans. "It's probably easiest if I just cut them off," he decided as the Harpy appeared in his hand as if by magic. Clarice's hands fisted in her lap as she locked gazes with the doctor. She glanced away first and missed the softening in his eyes. She still hadn't figured it out, he thought sadly.

He grasped her right cuff, and sliced through the denim fabric, to mid thigh, as if it were butter. He grasped her calf and placed it on his shoulder as he neatly cut the fabric away around her thigh. He repeated the procedure on the other leg, leaving her with a neat pair of cut-offs. After examining her hands, he decided they didn't need to be bandaged, but he carefully cleansed all the dirt from the torn skin. She watched his hands as they went about the business of patching her up. Hands that had caused so much pain and suffering were once again being used to heal her. Her knees were in slightly worse shape and he applied a light dressing after carefully cleaning them too. Not a word was said until he touched her ankle and she swore fluently.

"Clarice," he admonished, "there is no need for such language."

"That's what you think," she hissed as he wrapped a cold towel around her foot in an effort to stop the swelling. "You know my daddy used to patch me up like this when I was little," she said, trying to take her mind off the pain.

"Ah yes, the illustrious night watchman," Dr. Lecter said lifting his eyes to her face, as he finished with her ankle. "Now tell me Clarice. Do you see me as replacement for your long lost daddy?"

"No," Clarice denied vehemently.

"Good," he crooned, as he stepped suggestively between her thighs. "Because I would hate to think of the damage I was doing to your psyche when I do things like this," he whispered with a grin as he closed the space between them. His lips covered hers once again, but the kiss was nothing like it had been before. It was rough and demanding and passionate. Clarice moaned as she tried to free her arms that were trapped between their bodies. Dr. Lecter broke the kiss long enough for her to move her hands, but didn't let her speak as he crushed her too him again. Her arms settled around his neck, as his hands floated down her back to settle on her hips. He scooted her over the counter until she was pressed against him from shoulder to hip. She wiggled a bit as the kiss continued and Dr. Lecter started to laugh as he broke the kiss again.

"I'm going to have to teach you how to dance," he said with a twinkle in his eye. Clarice blushed as she remembered her unknowing performance in the laundry room at home, but her eyes went wide as she realized the long-term implications of his statement.

"But you can't just keep me here…" she stammered.

"Not here perhaps," he said, "but I won the game tonight which means I get to keep you!"

"That's what you meant," she began to say but he cut her off.

"Exactly. Continuing to let you make decisions isn't too good for my health," he said as trailed his hands up her sides for emphasis. She squirmed slightly but managed to withhold the giggles his action prompted. He noticed her reaction, and made a mental note to find out just how ticklish she was sometime later.

"But you can't just keep me," she said again.

"Of course I can," he said as he leaned toward her with his patented evil grin. "I'm a cannibalistic, sociopath madman – I can do what ever I want." He ended growling playfully and nuzzling her neck. Clarice couldn't help the giggles this time.

"But how do you know I'll go along with this plan to 'kidnap' me," she asked once he'd stepped back again. 

"I assure you, I don't need you to go along with it," he paused to make sure his point was understood, "but I know you'll go along because of what you said at the lake house."

"But I said 'Not in a thousand years," she reminded him.

"And what was the question?" he asked patiently.

"If I would ever say to you 'Stop, if you …" Clarice trailed off as she realized what she had agreed never to do.

"You told me you would never use our relationship against me. You agreed with those words that you would never bring love into the game or use that emotion to try to trap me. I took that to mean that your feelings for me meant more than your duty to the F.B.I. Was I wrong?" he asked searching her face. Clarice realized what he had known since that summer night. She had spoken from her heart that night, and then tried desperately to forget what she had felt, as she tried to fit back into her life with the F.B.I. A life that no longer mattered to her as she looked at the man who had brought all those feelings rushing back to her.

"No," she agreed quietly. Dr. Lecter's smile held equal parts of triumph and relief. He'd been unsure for just a moment. He scooped her up off the counter with a speed that astonished her.

"Doctor," she breathed in surprise.

"Hmm," he murmured in her ear, "that's something else we're going to have to work on."

"What's that?" she questioned with a smile.

"My name," he replied as he carried her up the stairs.

That night Clarice learned her lessons very well, although the dancing had to wait until her ankle healed. The doctor discovered, much to his delight, other things that could make his Clarice growl. Clarice discovered what was required to make the good doctor's heart rate get above eight five. When he got up to get another blanket for them, he passed the jacket she had sabotaged earlier in the evening. He retaliated by finding every spot where she was ticklish, at least until he got a face full of pillow. 

That night would determine the tone for the rest of their relationship – playful and loving.

THE END

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Well folks, that's it! Sorry to those of you who wanted me to spell it out. I kind of chickened out instead. I'll have another go at it next time. Until then, thanks for all the reviews and support you sent my way, luna.


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